Bound by Blood
by HornetFreak
Summary: She moved on, found a home elsewhere. However, it seems as though the past has a funny way of catching up with us. What you have forgotten, others may remember, and seek to remind you.


**Okaaaay...**

**So, this was just something that I've had sitting on my computer for a bit now. At the moment, I only have the one chapter, and I don't plan to release any others until after I get Best Served Cold and Mirrored Eyes done. Whatever the case, I wrote this. Let me know what you think. If people really like it, I'll continue it, if not, I'll move on to one of the many fic ideas that're floating around in my head.**

* * *

The screams of a young girl echoed through the small cottage in the woods. Followed swiftly by vicious laughter from an older woman. Yang squealed as her mother recoiled from the soapy bathwater that she flung out at her. Summer's shirt and pants were already soaked through; their marine combat having raged on for several minutes. Thus, it appeared that the little dragon wasn't the only one experiencing bath time.

"Yang," she laughed, trying to grab hold of the slippery girl. "Settle down, it's time to get out."

"No!" Yang giggled as she squirmed out of Summer's grip for the fifth time. For someone who enjoyed getting as filthy as she did, rolling through the mud and muck all day, the five-year-old really did love her baths as well. It was nearly every evening that Summer or Taiyang had to draw her up a tub full of hot water and bubbles. Similarly, no matter how much she despised having her golden hair touched, Yang seemed to absolutely adore the feeling of getting it washed.

It was fascinating just where the priorities of children laid.

Though it took about twelve more attempts, Summer eventually was able to get ahold of the wriggling girl. By some miracle, the only thing in the bathroom that wasn't drenched was the warm, fluffy towel hanging on the rack. With a firm hand on Yang's arm, so she didn't take off running and dive into the tub again, Summer went about drying off her daughter. Afterward, she had her stood on a stepping stool by the sink, towel wrapped around her, looking like a floor-length gown.

"Say 'ah,'" Summer said, squirting some toothpaste on Yang's multicolored toothbrush.

Yang did as she was told, angling her head back, closing her lilac eyes, and opening up her mouth. Summer couldn't help but smile as she proceeded to brush the little girl's teeth, a few of which were already missing. She was growing up fast. Too fast if either of her parents had anything to say about it.

It seemed like just yesterday, Yang was barely walking, and only the smallest tufts of bright gold hair were starting to grow in. Now, she was five and about to start school. Summer's chest filled with glee as she imagined her darling girl running around the schoolyard with her newly found friends. And she would make friends, it was just the kind of person she was. Her laughter and mirth were infectious.

Summer finished brushing and held out a paper cup for Yang to spit in. When that was done, she picked up her daughter and set her in the hallway. "Okay, go get dressed for bed," she told her as she went about drying up the fallout of hurricane Yang. "I'll be up in a moment to kiss you girls goodnight. 'Kay?"

"Okay!" Yang parroted, skipping off to her and Ruby's bedroom. Summer chuckled to herself; she was just sunshine incarnate.

The tub gurgled as she pulled the plug on the drain. Towel in hand, she mopped up the torrent of water that had been splashed all over the floor. Bath toys had been dragged out and thrown all over but were swiftly gathered up and placed in a basket. Soon enough, the only evidence that one of Yang's infamous baths had taken place was a suspiciously half-empty bottle of bubble bath soaps.

Yang and Ruby were frantically jumping on the elder sister's bed when she entered their room. Both instantly stopped, however, when they saw Summer's raised brow and folded arms. Her 'bedtime face,' they called it. It slipped promptly and gave way to a calm smile as they each crawled into their respective beds. Yang flopped down on some bright yellow and purple blankets, while Ruby snuggled under her red.

"Now, you two go to sleep," Summer commanded as she tucked in the younger of her daughters. "Your uncle Qrow is coming to visit tomorrow. You'll need a good night's sleep if you want to be able to play with him all day."

Ruby squealed when she kissed and pinched her cheek, recoiling further under the covers. The tiny girl settled down a bit when Summer's palm came to rest on her forehead. "Settle down, little rose," she whispered. She planted another kiss where her hand was. "I love you."

On the other side of the room, Yang had no such intentions of lying there and letting herself be tucked in. As was the routine every night, she radiated energy throughout the entire process. With a fierce yell - as intense as a five-year-old could muster, anyway - she launched off the bed and into Summer's arms. The older woman staggered back, slightly, still somewhat surprised by the power the child possessed. Tiny arms wrapped about her neck and golden hair tickled her chin.

"I love you, mommy," Yang said into her neck.

Summer chuckled as she leaned over to lay the girl back down and put a kiss on each of her plump cheeks. "I love you, too, sweetie." It took a minute, but soon enough, Yang was all bundled up just like her sister. Summer couldn't help but let an adoring coo escape her as she looked over the bedroom. Both her daughters under layers of warm blankets, only visible from the neck up. The looked like adorable little cabbages. She stopped by the door to the hall, turning around. "Alright, goodnight, you two," she said.

"Can we have a story?" Yang sat up, determined to delay sleep for as long as possible.

Summer shook her head. "No, not tonight."

"Please?"

She sighed. "Alright, here's your story." She sat on the bed and narrowed her silver eyes at Yang. "Once upon a time, there was a very tired mommy. She was so tired that she couldn't think of any stories to tell her daughters at bedtime. So, like good girls, they decided to go straight to sleep, so their mommy could rest. The end."

"That's not a real story," Yang pouted. It was so cute the way her arms crossed like that... No! Summer shook such thoughts from her head. She couldn't give in, not again.

"I know, Yang. But I really am tired." Her shoulders sagged. As much as she loved the girls, motherhood was taking its toll on her. "But how about this? If you're a good girl tonight, tomorrow I'll get uncle Qrow to tell you one of _his_ stories."

The kid didn't even answer. Instead, her lilac eyes widened briefly, then snapped shut as both girls' heads impacted their pillows.

Summer laughed under her breath as she clicked the bedroom door shut. Oh, how they loved their uncle. He let them stay up past bedtime, told the coolest stories - which all happened to be factually accurate - and always brought sweets when he came to visit. The definition of a cool uncle, her old partner, was.

In the den at the base of the stairs, Summer found her _other _partner. She let out a long, drawn-out groan as she stretched and then cuddled up to him in one fluid motion. Taiyang chuckled and pulled her in, putting a loving - mmmm... and muscular - arm around her. She was still a little damp from her battle with the SS Yang, but he didn't seem to mind. Which was lucky, because he was warm and she didn't want to move.

Summer sighed into his chest and felt the deep rumble of his quiet laughter yet again. "What? What's so funny?" she demanded, glaring up at him playfully.

"That bad, huh?" he asked.

She scowled, but dropped it quickly, as there was no real heat behind it. "No, it's just... tomorrow night can't come soon enough." Though she'd _claimed_ that Qrow was coming to see the girls, that was really only part of it. In reality, Summer and Tai needed a night to themselves. They'd been planning it for a month now. Dinner at a nice restaurant - one that didn't have a kids' menu, a quiet walk in the park. Hopefully, finish the evening off with them drunkenly stripping each other down in a hotel room.

Crude as it was, they hadn't had a real romantic night together since Yang popped out. The sexiest thing either had done in years was quickies in the bathroom or closet. Not the most stellar way to live as a married couple.

"Yeah, I get it," Tai squeezed her closer, causing a tiny squeak to escape her as the breath was pushed from her lungs. "Don't worry, though, soon we'll be out on the town, and they'll be here with Qrow."

Summer looked into her husband's eyes blankly. "That doesn't fill me with nearly as much hope as you think."

* * *

The stillness of night rested on the Xiao Long household. She stared at the darkened ceiling above their bed. Beside her, Taiyang snored softly, his broad chest rising and falling in a peaceful rhythm. Summer breathed a sigh of contentment as she shifted closer to him. Humming in his sleep, his arm unconsciously found its usual place around her.

It was amazing to her. How, even years later, she still felt so safe in Tai's embrace. All her instincts and training seemed to become meaningless when he held her close. Summer felt as though she could simply melt into him. Come whatever may, she was fine so long as he was there. It was with that in mind that her silver eyes drifted closed, and she welcomed sleep to take her.

Slumber came swiftly, within seconds, the world around her faded away. So much so that Summer failed to hear the near-silent creak of their bedroom door. Or the muffled sound of feet on the floorboards. Even if she had noticed, she most likely would have thought it Yang or Ruby, come to crawl into her and Tai's bed after a bad dream. So calm and relaxed were she and her husband, that didn't notice the two black-garbed figures that entered the room. They made their way all the way to the bed without so much as stirring its occupants.

Summer felt a pair of fingers brush across her neck, pulling back her hair. They were coarse, calloused, the hands of a fighter, of her Taiyang.

Summer smiled. "Tai," she whispered, "I thought we were waiting… 'til… tomorrow." Her words trailed off as sleep rewound its inky tendrils into her mind.

Something soft and damp pressed to her neck once, then twice, causing her to stir once more, but not awaken fully. "Honey," Summer mumbled. "It's late. Go back to sleep."

Without warning or reason, she felt a sharp pain prick where he had kissed. She imagined he was trying to get a little frisky and had given her a love bite, but it was too late for that. With a jolt, her eyes snapped open. "Tai! I said n-" she paused. "Shit!"

A dark figure loomed over her, their face shrouded in shadow and concealed by a smooth, pitch-black mask. They stared down at her with an expressionless look, one hand extended towards her, held at her shoulder. That's when she noticed the needle stuck into her neck out the corner of her eye. With a flip of his finger, the intruder shot the contents of the syringe into her.

Instantly, Summer felt a groggy sensation overtake her. Her head felt cloudy, and spots danced in her vision. All control of her aura or semblance seemed to vanish from her body. She tried to spring from the bed to face the mystery man but found that her limbs responded to her commands slower and less precise than usual. Instead of rising gracefully, and taking a combat stance, Summer pathetically rolled out of bed and stumbled to her feet, only to lose feeling in her legs a second later.

As her knees hit the floor, she groaned, "Tai." Her tongue felt swollen, and words seemed to jumble around in her head.

Her husband was already in action. Which was to say he was already grappling with a different attacker. She heard him grunt as he struggled to push back the dagger that was plunged toward his throat. The man above him had his same figure and used his considerable weight and size to bear down, inching the knife closer. The point tickled Tai's aura, the bright yellow light sparking as the blade danced over his neck.

Summer tried to reach out to him, but her arm failed to move. She needed to help him to get that man off him. But how could she when she was stuck on the floor, losing more and more control of her body by the second?

The man above her pressed a finger to his collar. _"Aura suppressants and a mild sedative,"_ his voice was tinny and muffled like the mask was disguising it. _"Don't fight it. If you do, you'll only be hurting yourself."_

Summer blinked hazily. Were his words supposed to mean something? Was she supposed to understand? She struggled to think of the answer. She struggled to think of anything, really. She could recall waking up, and then being on the floor for some reason.

She looked around. The room was spinning and shifting in all kinds of funny ways. Moonlight from the window twisted and shone in directions it shouldn't have. Sounds around her began to repeat themselves.

_"Don't fight it. If you do, you'll only be hurting yourself."_ Fight it? Was she supposed to fight something? How could she hurt herself? She couldn't even move.

There was a loud crash, and two men fell onto the floor behind the shadow person. One of them was the same, covered in weird black clothing, and the other looked more familiar. Tai! That's right, her husband. They were supposed to have a beautiful, romantic night tomorrow. Summer narrowed her eyes as she looked at him.

Why did he have a needle stuck in his arm? Was the other man a doctor, trying to give him a shot? That must have been why they were fighting. Tai hated going to the doctor, and he hated shots even more.

"Summer!" Taiyang screamed as the masked man picked her up in his arms. She didn't understand why he was so upset; the man was just helping her up like a true gentleman.

Someone must have turned out the lights because everything started to get really dark then. Summer thought that her eyes were open, but she couldn't see out of them. She must've needed to get her eyes checked. Maybe she needed glasses?

She heard Taiyang yell again, but this time he sounded quieter. Like he was getting far away. Really, if he wanted her to listen to him, he should get closer. "NO! Sum-Ack!" There was a wet slicing noise like someone was cutting pot roast. Summer hoped they would clean up after themselves. It would take hours to get pot roast smell and stains out of her bed.

The last thing she heard before she fell asleep was a dull thump and a gurgling noise.

/-/

Taiyang Xiao Long fell to the floor. Even as blood pooled on the ground around him, the was a rage that burned in his lifeless face. The agent stared down at him with a calm expression, and not just the one the mask portrayed.

It was regrettable that they had to kill the other members of the family. Unfortunate, but not unnecessary. There was no chance that the huntsman would simply allow them to take his wife and daughter without a fight. And if he lived, there was the chance he would involve others and mount a rescue. That could not be allowed to happen. This needed to stay quiet, and if that meant a man had to die just because he cared for his family, so be it.

The agent looked to his partner, stood in the doorway, one of their targets held, bridal style, in his arms. Without a word spoken, they shared a nod. One of two HVIs secured, one of two witnesses dealt with. The two of them continued down the hallway, then stopped at the door to the daughters' bedroom.

He took a deep breath. This was the part of the mission that he honestly was dreading. Killing children was something the agency frowned on, but still did when the job called for it. Personally, he despised the idea. The girl was only five, what could she see or say that people would believe her? How could she compromise them in any way, other than saying something like, 'the shadow people took my mommy?' Then again, it wasn't his job to question orders. Just to follow them. If the higher-ups told him killing a child would help the greater good, who was he to argue?

As he pushed the door open, he was greeted with what would have been a genuinely heart-wrenching sight, had he not been prepared for it. The two daughters, Ruby and Yang, were curled up against the headboards of their beds, eyes wide with terror, tears streaming down their cheeks.

Wasting no time, his partner lunged forward, grabbing Ruby by the wrist. The little girl shrieked as he retrieved a second tranquilizer, this one containing a smaller dosage, on account of her size and age.

"RUBY!" the blonde girl screamed, diving off her bed. She was stopped midway, caught and held in place by the agent. She commanded a lot of might for her size, evident by how he struggled to maintain his hold on her. "NO! NO!"

Her cries continued as the girl in question was carried out in much the same state as her mother. Her silver eyes rolled back, mouth hung slack, and limbs dangling from the other agent's arms. It was a pathetic and disgusting sight. Such a small and innocent girl reduced to nothing but a limp bag of bones. Yang screeched and wrestled all the harder as she disappeared around the corner.

"NO! No, Ruby, no!" she cried. "Mommy, daddy, help! Please, he- mmph!" To stop anyone else from hearing, he clamped a gloved hand over her mouth. It also kept him from having to listen to her screams as he retrieved his knife.

Just one thrust, a little effort, and her suffering would cease. _I'm giving her mercy at this point. Now she won't have to live the life of an orphan._ He wasn't sure if he was trying to justify his actions or convince himself. Probably both. Tears and snot wet his glove as the red-faced girl bawled into it. He tried not to look at her as he raised the dagger up, prepared to plunge it into her neck.

His hand fell. The sound of a blade slicing through flesh reached his ears. Warm blood flowed over his chest and hands. The girl in his arms stopped her fight and went deathly still.

The agent looked down at Yang. She was perfectly fine, his knife never even touched her. Instead, there was a long, crimson blade protruding from his sternum. Heat and cold engulfed his body at the same time. One moment, searing pain shot out from the wound. The next, his entire body went numb, and he lost all control of it.

He fell slowly to the floor. Shadows crept in on his vision, and blood flowed from his mouth, pooling in his mask. Just before he was taken by the cold hands of death, he managed to look up at who it was that had killed him.

In the center of the room, stood a woman, Tall, and dark-haired, she was garbed in red and black. In her hand, she gripped a long vicious katana, his lifeblood dripping from the blade. She must have sensed his gaze, for her crimson eyes bored into his soul. Her face was cold and stoic like she had no emotion to show. Behind her, red and black light swirled around, forming a doorway almost. That must have been how she got there.

Turning away, she looked at Yang. The girl stared up at her, paralyzed by fear. With little effort, the huntress grabbed the girl's hand and dragged her through the portal. And just like that, as quickly as she had arrived, she and the child were gone.

Though it hurt to even breathe, the agent couldn't help but laugh. It was a sad, wet rattle by this point, but it was a laugh. He had been dreading murdering that little girl. Up until the very moment, he had been searching, begging whatever gods would listen for some way out of it. Well, there must have been someone who heard him.

He wasn't even upset by his own demise. In all honesty, he found the whole turn of events ironically funny.

* * *

Aura crackled as a fist impacted with her jaw. Red eyes flashed and locked onto her opponent. He was tall and fit, with tanned skin and dark eyes. A shaggy mane of raven hair framed his stony face alongside a rough beard. Lacking a top, on display was an impressive array of scars, crisscrossing his frame. He was a warrior, he had lived and survived on the field of battle and come back to tell the tale.

He was skilled; few had managed to beat him in a duel since he joined the tribe. Presumably, the perfect fighter, at least when it came to hand to hand, his fists were like iron, and his chin chiseled from granite. In layman's terms, he could take hits and dish them out as well.

Well, in that regard, they were alike.

Grass and dirt flew as she lunged forward, a wild cry tearing from her throat. Her first punch was easily blocked with his forearm, and he took a step back to gain surer footing. The follow-up jab was deflected similarly, him sweeping it off track and driving the defending palm into her shoulder, throwing her off balance. Pain flared, and sparks flew in her vision as his counterattack slammed into her temple. Aura kept it from doing any lasting damage, but it still hurt like a bitch.

The crowd surrounding them roared as her knees hit the ground, some in joy, others with rage. Doubtless, there were some people losing money on this brawl. She looked up at the face of the man who was kicking the living daylights out of her. The expression that stared back was one that pretty much said 'this hurts me more than it hurts you.' Which was to say, it was a shit-eating grin crossed with a wince.

"Sorry 'bout this," he said.

She coughed and spat out a wad of bloody phlegm. "Yeah…" she huffed. "Me too."

Her muscles tensed as he wound up his finishing blow. Time seemed to slow, the final punch flew through the air, on a direct course for her face. In what no doubt appeared to be a futile move to delay the inevitable, she threw up her left hand and wrapped her fingers around his wrist. Instead of pushing back or redirecting the blow, much to everyone's shock, she pulled the attack in, allowing the strike to bury itself in her gut.

Her vision darkened, and she doubled over as the air was forcefully driven from her lungs, but it was a necessary hit. Keeping hold of the offending arm, she prevented her opponent from escaping and pulled herself up. In one brutally fluid stroke, her free fist rocketed toward his jaw. His head snapped back from the impact, and had she not been holding on, he would have gone flying.

Within seconds, she had dragged him to the ground. She unleashed a furious volley of punches until her knuckles came back bruised and bloodied. A flash of ethereal green light warned her of his aura giving way.

It was in throwing one final punch that she felt her hand caught by another. A tall shadow loomed over her from behind. Crimson eyes flickered and changed back to their natural lilac state. The man beneath her huffed and wheezed, one eye fused shut, his face caked in mud, sweat, and blood. Though she couldn't see, she imagined she looked much the same.

"That's enough," came the stern feminine voice above. All the cheers from the spectators ceased; none dared to interrupt while _she _spoke. "I like that you show no mercy, but this is only a duel. There's no need to kill him over a few lien and bragging rights."

Yang Branwen looked over her shoulder, up at the woman she feared and respected so. Blood red eyes stared back, judging, and critical. Raven's face was complete stone, showing no emotion but for a tight-lipped smirk. She always wore that expression when Yang won a fight.

Yang nodded, loosening her fist, and her mother let her free. Her entire body cried out in agony as she clambered to her feet. Glancing around, The blonde brawler shrugged at the crowd of onlookers. Her arm quivered as she held one fist in the air in victory.

The Branwen tribe erupted in celebration. Even the ones who had bet on the other fighter approached her wearing vicious grins and shouting her praises. So loud and rowdy were they that even Raven's dominating voice couldn't have pierced the racket. Not that she would have tried. As strict as a commander as she was, the last true Branwen knew when to let her men have their fun. This was one such time; Yang was a favorite in the sparring ring, it was always a treat to see her fight.

Hell, she had fun too. It wasn't often someone had the stones to challenge her, and this time they'd even put money on it. So, she got to kick the shit out of somebody and got paid to do it. Win, win. Although, she didn't think her opponent would think so.

While she had been distracted with the crowd, he had snuck up behind her. Well, there hadn't been any real stealth involved, anyone could've got behind her in such confusion as they were in. If she'd had the energy, Yang might've jumped when she felt the hand grasp her shoulder. However, now it was all she could do to groggily face his direction.

"Hey," he shouted over the crowd. "Good fight!"

"Yeah, it was fun," she nodded. "I'd, ah, shake your hand, but I kinda can't feel my arms."

He winced. "Sorry about that. No hard feelings, right?"

Yang smile and flung a barely functioning arm over his shoulder. "Nah, I woulda did the same to you." She meant it, too.

He laughed and nervously looked away. It wasn't often someone pushed Yang up against a wall in the ring and got her to joke about it. Adrien was a unique case, though. A prizefighter from Mistral, he'd gotten in trouble with the organized crime rings there. She gathered from his various stories that he was supposed to take a fall during a staged fight. Instead, he won and was forced to flee the city.

Some scouts from the tribe had found him in a little dive bar. He refused to pay the toll for passing through their territory. Against three to one odds, he came out on top of the ensuing melee, which had impressed Raven enough for her to offer Adrien a place amongst them.

Since then, he and Yang had hit it off. The similarities in their fighting styles, combined with their shared love of combat, had been a recipe for a beautiful friendship.

Or a deadly rivalry.

Probably both. Either way, their match was one that had the whole camp in a spin. Bets had been flying, boasts about both Yang and Adrien passing from circle to circle. It had everyone so wound up that Raven had even decided to postpone a raid so the fight could happen. There was talk about the winner getting a party held in their honor. But that had been swiftly stamped out. While the attack was delayed, she wouldn't let all the raiders to be hungover and exhausted the next day.

Although, if that really was the case, Raven probably shouldn't have hired on a bunch of drunken idiots. Right on cue, a half-empty beer flew through the air, just barely missing Yang's head.

She chuckled as she let go of Adrien and slowly began making her way out of the moshpit that used to be the sparring ring. It was like trying to swim in tar. With all the flailing limbs, wild embraces, and small fights breaking out in the aftermath, Yang wondered if maybe she should've just let Adrien knock her out. That way, she wouldn't have had to deal with all _this_.

Eventually, and it did take a few minutes, Yang found herself spilling out of the throng and landing flat on her ass. Part of her wanted to move, to get up and go fall into bed. The other half wanted nothing more than to pass out right there. In the end, she decided on a mix of the two and simply laid back, staring up at the midday sky as she caught her breath.

Yang watched as the clouds went by between the boughs of the trees. The uproar of the mob all but died out as her focus shifted. Usually, this was the sort of position people were in when they reflected on all the things in life they were thankful for. That or they freaked the fuck out and had an existential breakdown, and started questioning their life's decisions. She, on the other hand, did neither.

Her head was only at its sharpest when she was fighting. Adrenaline helped to clear the mind and make her focused. Unlike most, when Yang sitting and staring blankly into space, it usually meant that she wasn't thinking at all.

"You fought well." She blinked as Raven stepped into her vision. While they were matched in height, now the older woman appeared to tower over her daughter.

"Yeah? Well, so did he," Yang, sitting up, but still only coming up to Raven's knees.

"It was a close fight, there at the end," she nodded. "I'll admit, I didn't know for sure who would come out on top."

Coming from Raven Branwen, that sort of comment was either the highest of praise or the lowest of insults. It meant both combatants were so skilled, it was hard to tell who was better. Or, she meant to say she couldn't tell who would keel over first. Hopefully, considering her opening remark, it was the former.

"You allow yourself to take too many hits, though." And there it was! Raven was well versed in finding flaws in her performance. Her sacrificial plays being one she frequently harped on. Yang preferred to justify it by saying it helped make use of her semblance. If she never took any damage, how was she supposed to throw it back twice as hard?

"You know me," Yang shrugged. "I like to live dangerously."

Raven sighed, shaking her head. "Being a risk-taker is all well and good," she said, "but only when it pays off."

"Well, it paid off here, didn't it?"

"And what will you do when it doesn't? One day, you'll find yourself in a fight you can't win like that."

Yang let out a groan. "Then I guess I'll have to rethink my strategy. Look, can we not do this _again_? I just won a fight, and I'm too tired to get into another one."

Raven crossed her arms and closed her eyes. It was a stance Yang knew well. It meant she was trying not to lose it and kill whomever she was talking to. "I suppose you _have_ earned a rest. Fine." She stepped away. "Go, I had some of the girls draw a bath for you."

"Aw, you really do care," Yang cooed. Her muscles screamed as she hoisted herself up and made for her tent. Just as she thought she was free and out of face-stabbing range, she heard her mom call out.

"Don't think we won't be talking about this later, though!"

She waved a hand over her shoulder but didn't look back. "Wouldn't dream of it."

* * *

She was in heaven.

At least, that's what it felt like. The heat from the water seeped into Yang's aching limbs and muscles, providing a euphoric feeling of relaxation. Mountains of frothy bubbles floated around her, making her look like a severed head in the snow. In the air, a light haze of smoke hung, and candles bathed the interior of the tent in golden light. With a pleased sigh, she lazily stretched an arm out of the water. Soap clung to her skin, which was now free of the muck and grimes the day had wrought.

A cursory glance at her hand revealed no wrinkles having form yet. Some might have preferred to get out before such a thing was to happen. Not Yang Branwen, though. Her half-lidded eyes closed once more as her head came to rest on the rim of the wooden tub.

It was probably a strange image to picture, the daughter of a well-known and feared bandit queen enjoying a bubble bath. To some within the camp even, the idea was humorous. However, they all made sure to keep those thoughts to themselves. Those that didn't, didn't make the same mistake twice.

Indeed, it was unusual for someone in Yang's walk of life to have such a preference. Bandits were supposed to be grizzled, vicious warriors with muscles for brains and chunks of ice where their hearts should be. And for the most part, she fit the stereotype. But ever since she was a little girl, she'd _loved_ bubble baths. The way the hot water and suds massaged her skin. How it felt to run her fingers through her flowing golden mane with shampoo - yes, she used shampoo, fuck off.

And as an added bonus, having her own personal tub and bath tent meant that she didn't have to bathe in the communal tent or a river. Neither held the same means of helping her unwind. Neither allowed her to simply sit and luxuriate for as long as she wanted. Plus, she always had to keep looking around to make sure no one was trying to sneak a peek at her. That rarely happened, no one wanted to invoke her or Raven's ire. But some boys in camp decided to tempt fate and cut a hole in her private tent…

Once.

Yang smirked, remembering the looks on their faces as she stormed out the tent flap, clad in naught but bubbles, and proceeded to beat the perviness out of them. Then there came a knock at the entryway post.

"State your purpose or die," she sighed nonchalantly. "Or, depending on how I feel, state your purpose _and _die."

"I come bringing the spoils of victory," chuckled a familiar voice.

Yang grinned, even as she heard the tent's flap rustle. Adrien entered without waiting for her permission, but not without consent. If she really didn't want him there, he knew she would've said something to let him know. Just as he let her know the same when she came knocking. It was a whole system that the two of them had worked out together, and it worked.

She opened her eyes and gave his form a quick once-over as he shuffled toward the tub. A fresh set of bruises and cuts were now sported across his torso. Yang herself bore a matching set. His lip was split and reddened from some hit or other he'd taken. On his chin, from the semblance-boosted punch she'd used to turn the fight around, Adrien sported a nasty gash. Those paled in comparison, however, to the swelling of his right eye and the beautiful shade of purple surrounding it.

Yang winced when she saw it. "Ooh, I _almost_ regret giving you that," she said.

He looked at her blankly. "No, you don't."

"Eh, you're probably right," she shrugged. "Anyway, are you just gonna stand there, like a creep or we doing this? Cause I will drag you in here if I have to."

Like the bastard he was, Adrien stood there a second and tapped his chin, letting his eyes rove over her. "Hmm… I don't know, the view from here is pretty good."

"Go eat a dick!"

He smiled salaciously. "I do believe that's _your_ job, actually."

Yang laughed. "Oh, I'm gonna make you pay for that one. Get in here!"


End file.
